Sunday
by madeinfrance
Summary: "'Your mother gave me the ring,' she whispered softly to him, a small smile on her face. 'It's perfect.'" Clark x Lois, post-Dawn of Justice.


When Perry came to get her and she got downstairs, everybody had already left the room. She could hear the voices outside, the soft buzzing of heavy conversations as she made her way through the living room, to the dining room. And here he was.

Her partner, her best friend, her boyfriend – fiancé. Her love.

Lois wasn't the lovie dovie, girly type, but that's what he was. There wasn't any other word for it, really.

( _World_ , she immediately thought. He was her world, too. Didn't he know that?)

Just like there wasn't any other word to describe how she was feeling, but heartbroken. In her chest – in her chest, she did feel like her heart was breaking, literally, into a million pieces, never to be put back together again. And yet, at the same time, it tightened, tightened in a way it hurt like nothing had ever hurt before as she looked at his face, his beautiful eyes that won't open, his hands, folded on his dark blue suit.

She felt the tears rolled down her cheeks as her fingers came to grip his, his skin so painfully cold under her touch. He had never been cold before – never should have been. It wasn't supposed to end up like this.

Her other hand wandered into his curls, black and shiny. "Your mother gave me the ring," she whispered softly to him, a small smile on her face. "It's perfect."

Lois felt the sob she fought so hard to contain escape her, the silence too much to handle as she bent down to kiss his forehead, her tears freely running, her breathing difficult.

"I would have said yes, Clark," she mouthed against his skin, images of the smile she could only imagine he would have given her, if he had lived to see her accept. "I would have said yes."

(How could she not?)

With a gasp, Lois wakes up, the feeling of suffocating still gripping her as she raises on her arms, almost panting. It takes her a few seconds, but she finally realizes where she is. The sun out, gently coming through the drapes, the room dimlighted by it.

Taking a deep breath, she wills herself to calm down, pretending that she hadn't just relived her worst memory, that everything's fine.

 _Everything is fine._

But neither her heart and head listen, of course, the images still flashing through her mind tightening her insides. She swallows with difficulty, then takes the covers away and gets up, limbs slightly shaking. _Come on, Lois._

Stopping herself from acting too frantic, she walks to the door, to the staircase. In the quiet morning, she hears muffled voices, and then the front door before it's silent again. Martha, by the look of it. Because as soon as she can see the lower floor, here he is.

Standing, all right – alive.

He just turned from the coffee maker when he spots her, and just like that, he's beaming.

"Hey."

As cliché as it sounds – as _stupid_ as it sounds, because he's been back for two months now, damn it, and she knows she would have stop panicking and having nightmares and replaying this nightmare incessantly – it feels like a weight is lifted off her chest, and everything's okay again. She smiles.

"Hey." Lois holds back from running down the stairs two at the time as he comes to stand at the end of it, but when she finally gets there and he catches her, she can't help but hold him a little tigher than usual.

To breath him in, an arm around his neck, a hand in his soft hair, her body as close as she can.

"Mom had to go to work, so we already ate, but we left you some breakfast and coffee." He drops a smal kiss to her neck before pulling away.

She doesn't let go, though, and holds on, nuzzling him, murmuring a soft 'Thanks' against his cheek. So close, she can see every detail of his face, let his scent – so unique, so him – envelop her. She can even feel the gentle rise of his chest against her own.

Little things she missed so badly, that she was so afraid to forget.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently. "I thought I heard - "

Her hearbeat, she knows, amused by the words he doesn't say, her thumb running on his strong jaw. He's always been a little embarassed of it, even though she told him that she doesn't mind.

She kisses him, and allows herself to linger a little before pulling away.

"Yeah," she smiles reassuringly, soothing his worried brow with her fingers. Lois pecks his lips again, his nose, his chin, his cheek because she can.

As surreal as it still seems sometimes - she can.

Clark being Clark, she knows that she hasn't fooled him, his blue eyes still searching hers, but Lois just shrugs, and smiles. "I'm fine. Just – a bad dream."

Pressing herself against his body again, she gestures towards his computer. "So: have you finished your article yet?", and she hides her smile as she watches his worry turn to focus, the shift to his contentious reporter mode unmistakable.

"Yes, but I'd like your opinion about some quotes, actually."

Nodding, Lois lets go and heads to the table, more than happy to oblige. "Sure, honey – show me what you've got."


End file.
